A Court of Terrasen Dreams
by jwootan02
Summary: Aelin has enough guilt - enough blood on her hands - when a fifteen year old girl with twin hair & turquoise eyes follows her from the Healer's Commune back to Mistward. Aelin's not sure she can accept a long lost sister, even if Rowan thinks her powerful water affinity & unmatched healing would make a valuable ally on her court. AU - Aelin's got a little sister. OC. HOF-EOS.
1. Chapter 1

She was too easy to spy on, always in the kitchens morning and night, then making a raucous in the woods nearly every day. It was astounding that she hadn't been found out sooner. Faeries flocked to her presence, though none seemed to approach. Between her own scent of spiked rage and musky loathing and the scent of the Prince webbing within hers more and more every day, she wasn't exactly inviting to fae senses.

At least the blonde haired girl with striking turquoise eyes wasn't welcoming to the rest of them, but to the small, silent healer, the scent of the girl who was both human and fae had called to her from the moment that girl passed the river aside the Commune. She'd followed the girl that day, and every day after, remaining just as unnoticed as she had all her life. She followed the warrior girl, covered in scars that she could have healed, from the commune of healers - her home - back to Mistward because of that scent.

She followed the scent because it was her own. Because that scent belonged to a girl with her eyes and her lips and her hair. Because her own scent of lavender and lemon verbena and the sweet earth that flew through the winds in her hair was underneath that harsh exterior. Because instantly, Taeryn knew she had found family.

The healer's facilities here were a little drab compared to what Taeryn was used to. She couldn't help but feel exposed with the little slits of space between every foot of wood that lined the walls. Hay littered the floor beneath her feet. The lockless wooden door swung at her back as she heaved a bucket of water out to use it on some far away crops. The scent of the Prince and lavender wisped into her presence with the passing breeze and she turned to the west. Perhaps Emrys could use the water to wash vegetables for dinner. The broken barrel leaked as she lifted the full weight of it onto one shoulder heading towards the kitchens. She would bring water to the crops later.

Not ten paces away from her healer's den, she slowed. They were leaving the kitchens, coming into her line of sight. Taeryn kept moving, but shrugged her shoulders a bit to look like a meek healer girl under the weight of the barrel. She'd spent her whole life in this character - meek healer girl - but she couldn't risk being more than that. Not with the enemies that have been rising on this continent and the next. Not with Maeve always too close, always watching. The pair didn't glance in her direction as they headed for the open field where the bonfires were being prepared for today's celebration. Neither her scarred twin, nor Prince Rowan of Maeve's blood seemed the type to join in on festivities like these, but if they were going so was she.

When she reached the kitchens Emrys was tidying up his counters while Luca was off washing dishes. The boy worked hard and had a pretty face that Taeryn had been avoiding. She was a sucker for a pretty face and relationships weren't quite her forte. Inevitably the boys - and sometimes men - who actually spotted her would think she was much older and flirting wasn't something Taeryn was trained in. She'd fumble over her words or stay silent until they lost interest or laughed at her expense.

She hadn't really entered the dating scene yet.

Looking away from Luca back by the sinks, she turned to Emrys. "I thought you might be in need of some fresh water for your vegetables, sir?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

The old man looked up at her healer's garb. Had she ever talked to him before? She'd listened to his stories at night with the others, staying far away from her blonde twin and her hawk friend, but had she ever really spoken to him? Would he know her? Had she just given her position away? His eyes met her own for too long. She'd blown it. Instantly she knew it, before he even opened his mouth: he knew too much.

"Why thank you," he said. "I thought I knew all the healers in Mistward, but I don't believe I'd had the pleasure of meeting you before."

After a steadying breath, Taeryn lowered the bucket of water from her arms onto the floor nearest the counter that still had unchopped potatoes on it. "I've come recently from the Commune."

Emrys hummed. "Interesting we have so many visitors at this time. Have you met Elentiya? Her eyes are so bright a blue they're impossible to miss."

He knew. Oh, he so knew. Their eyes were completely identical and he was staring right into hers. Even with her hair left unkempt and tied away the colors were the same. She should have worn a hood, but too many didn't in Mistward that it would only make her stand out rather than blend in. She never should have stopped in the kitchens. She'd only remained hidden for so long by keeping to her jobs and avoiding too many others, especially the older demi-fae of these training grounds. A male like Emrys has probably seen and known more than a hundred years worth of fae and legends.

When it was clear Taeryn wasn't going to reply, Emrys spoke again. "Does she know you are here?"

She clenched her teeth. "No."

"Hmm," he paused. "She would want to know you, but she's not the easiest creature to get to know. Do you know why she's here?"

"No," she repeated feeling the weight of her ignorance in her chest. She set her hands down on the counter beside her before sneaking a glance to where Luca was pretending not to listen. "She's doing some kind of training," she said back to Emrys.

"She's training to be let into Doranelle. She's training to see Maeve."

Taeryn's throat tightened. She'd spent most of her life avoiding Maeve and now if she followed this tendril of her family - this girl she didn't know and who didn't know her - then she would be walking right into Maeve's hands.

"With Prince Rowan training her, she must be something very special - very powerful…" he trailed off looking at Taeryn with raised eyebrows.

She gulped. Did he know who the girl was? What did that make Taeryn? Her heart pounded in her chest. She thought back to all the times her pulse raced, all the lives she'd saved in the knick of time and all the times her powers had boomed within her and nearly given her secret away. Those were nothing compared to now. If her first nursemaid was telling her the truth all those years ago then…

Then that girl was her sister - a princess. No, she was the princess. That girl was a queen. Her sister.

Emrys smiled to her, just a little teenaged girl. "Maybe you should be training with them too?"

"No," she blurted. Had she said anything to the old cook other than no since she got here?

"If you want to follow her to Doranelle, you'll have to prove yourself too. I assume the daughter of Mab is just the other side of the coin to that heir of fire you've been following for some time now. Am I right?"

He knew way too much. Taeryn's chest was rising and falling faster and faster. She'd never been so exposed. Not since they'd tried to take her. Not since her powers had…

She turned and ran from the kitchens, ducking behind the first building she saw until she could sneak back into her healer's quarters.

It was hours later when Taeryn heard the bark, "I need a healer."

The command was forceful and demanding and left no room to prepare. The other healers were out and about enjoying the celebration. Even some from the Commune had come and peeked their heads in to say hello to their old friend. None of them knew her well enough to stay or draw her out with them.

But this command shot Taeryn to her feet. She managed to reach for a cloak before darting outside behind the powerful male voice. The voice of Prince Rowan. She saw another healer heading for her rooms to fetch her supplies, but Taeryn had stopped needing supplies when she was a child. She ran after the silver haired faerie until she saw a reflection of herself lying in the grass near the bonfires. Her skin was smoking and a faint smell of burning blood rose through her nostrils. The Prince's eyes were ablaze and looking to the shadows underneath Taeryn's hood for directions. A growl slipped from him before she reacted.

"She's burning," she spilled out. The Prince nearly shook with annoyance, but it was a matter of Taeryn choosing how to combat this. Whether now was the time she was willing to unleash her power upon Mistward. "We need to get her into water," she said instead, "now."

He hesitated.

"Can you carry her?" Taeryn asked, preparing herself to carry her blood herself. She'd thought the Prince and -what had Emrys called her? - Elentiya had seemed good friends but perhaps if he was really just training her they weren't close enough for this.

But in a second he had her up in his arms, gripping her tightly.

Taeryn didn't wait for him when she turned and ran back for her healing rooms. The burning skin smell grew stronger and she knew that the centuries old fae warrior was burning where he touched her. She slung open the creaking wooden door and filled a tub big enough for the girl with less than a thought. The water was lukewarm.

"We need to chill the water," she said to herself, as she often did during the rush of a high risk patient. But before she could look for options, or call upon other sources of water, the tub was frozen with her sister inside of it. Prince Rowan kneeled over her, burns marring his arms and chest. He'd frozen the water. He had ice magic.

Good to know, Taeryn thought. Though if the Prince had seen her fill the tub he might know of her magic as well.

Just as Elentiya's temperature started to drop, the ice started melting rapidly, until it was boiling around her. She was boiling herself alive.

Instantly Taeryn filled her second tub and the Prince was moving her to it, freezing the water. Over and over again he poured his magic into the water. On his knees next to the unconscious girl, the Prince seemed so bared, so open. He'd never shown less than a calculating warrior's mask in the presence of others. Something in Taeryn's heart ached at the sight. This was her sister burning from the inside out and this cruel soldier was her keeper. A wave of something fierce poured over her in that moment. Something Taeryn couldn't quite understand.

"Can I heal your burns for you, Prince?" she whispered.

He didn't turn from the water basin when he growled at her.

"You don't have to leave her side. I can do it from here," she said, taking a breath. Her power had been restless anyway. She needed more of a release than filling baths.

His head turned a slight with his eyes darting to her for only an instant before returning to Elentiya. He grunted his acceptance.

Even in this dark moment, Taeryn let herself have one slow, small grin as she felt the magic swell inside her before she let it wisp from her fingertips toward the male. It spread and divided into strings, curling into his open wounds. Her magic filled his blood and pulled together cells and then rebuild his skin from the inside out. It wasn't a minute before her magic was done with him, but not ready to come back home yet. She weaved her sweet strings into the bath water and into Elentiya's body - into her blood. It clung to the water within the girl and travelled through her chest and limbs and throat and mind, leaving a trail of healed burns within her skin before finally snapping back to Taeryn. She sighed as the magic reentered her, her healing hands, and her head rolled with the relief, her hood slipping down her back.

Prince Rowan was looking at her now, nostrils flaring. She'd been so wrapped up in her magic she hadn't noticed him stand and step toward her. Gods, he was nearly a foot taller than her. His eyes were harsh as they stared at her exposed face. His elongated canines were out and ready to tear through her flesh.

"Who are you?" he spat.

Taeryn felt her ribs start shaking as her breath caught. But before he had a chance to eat her alive, Elentiya groaned behind them and the Prince was with her in an unseeable instant.

The older girl moaned to life, stretching in her nakedness. Taeryn didn't even remember them undressing her, but she'd always zoned out during the high pressure rescues. From in the tub, Elentiya reached for her toes, sitting up with a heavy leadened breath. Her turquoise eyes were foggy.

"What happened?" she murmured.

But at the same time, Taeryn and the Prince noticed the scars. Not the scars that lined her arms and hands, but the scars of her back. Scar was a kind word for the rivers of torn flesh covering every inch of her. Whips. She'd been whipped. Taeryn's eyes fell shut, a shuddering breath running through her. She'd seen wounds like those. She'd healed wounds like those. And she'd seen fae with wounds like those reach her too late to be saved. Too late to survive.

There was a slam and when Taeryn opened her eyes, the Prince was gone.

And turquoise eyes met her own.


	2. Chapter 2

For a few eternal seconds they said nothing. Taeryn watched her mirrored turquoise eyes closer than ever as they scanned their own reflection. For the first time, Taeryn was close enough to see the gold ring of fire wrapped around her blood's eyes. The same gold that swam through her own. The party had continued on without them outside. Laughter and voices of familiar and strange fae clamoured into a foggy roar.

Finally, Elentiya spoke, "Who are you?"

How many times had she been asked that in Mistward? Just today even? How many times had Taeryn asked herself the same question? She was an orphan girl whose only identity was a fable from an old nursemaid of kings and queens and magic and curses. She wasn't royalty. She was a peculiar girl with too sharp and too soft features. Her magic might have been true, but she could never really believe she had a noble family who had dropped her on a doorstep of another country. She had refused to believe it was true. She couldn't. Not until the sister of the stories walked right into the Commune of Healers that day.

Her eyes faded to the floor, inspecting her feet and then the scattered hay before she pulled in the deepest breath of her life. "My name is Taeryn," she said and backed away until she reached the second tub still full of water. Crossing her legs, she dropped to the floor to pick at her nails. "I think you're my sister."

A brief pause and then, "I never had any siblings."

"Oh," was all Taeryn could manage. She was picking at a tender spot on the side of a particular nail. There was some dangling skin she needed to chew off, but she wouldn't do that until she was alone.

"Why would you think I am your sister?" the girl asked, suddenly a stranger.

"I am an orphan," she muttered, realizing only as she said it that those were words she'd never spoken to another soul. "I was told a story when I was very young that my parents were royalty - a ruling king and queen. They possessed a deeply powerful bloodline and after my older sister was born with greater power than anyone anticipated, my conception was kept as private as possible. And when I was born I was officially declared stillborn to those who knew. But I was sent from birth across the sea to be left with the Commune of Healers to be looked after so that I wouldn't have the same cross to bear that my sister did. I was supposed to be hidden from Maeve. In plain sight, I suppose," she paused then, finally looking up only to see the other girl's gaze somewhere far off. "I never really believed that story, though. Most of the other healers said I was just abandoned at the doorstep like a few others had been over the years. Most said I was a nobody."

"Nameless," Elentiya breathed.

"Yes," Taeryn replied.

Minutes of silence passed. The ongoing party was settling into quiet outside.

"Who raised you?"

Taeryn held a breath. "Jera was my nursemaid until I was a child, but she left the Commune. I've been on my own just fine since then." She wouldn't be able to have this humiliating conversation and talk of Jera. "Who raised you?" she decided to ask back, instantly regretting it after seeing the girl's face.

"My parents…" she started, but took a breath as if collecting herself. "My parents were the king and queen of Terrasen. My father was a descendent of King Brannon - blessed by Mala Fire Bringer." Taeryn stared through the girl's face. She couldn't make herself look her in the eye. "My mother was a descendent of Mab, Mistress of the Night."

"Was?" Taeryn choked out.

"They were murdered when I was ten years old," she whispered.

Taeryn forced herself to swallow. "I'm… I'm so sorry," she stuttered.

"Me too," she said.

She didn't let herself really think about what it meant that this girl was telling her these stories of her family. She didn't let herself think of how she was connecting the dots of her past. Instead she said, "Are you blessed by Mala, too?"

Without answering, she replied, "Are you blessed by Mab?"

Neither responded. They both knew the answers to their questions.

"What were their names?" Taeryn asked, finally meeting the other girl's eyes.

"Rhoe and Evalin Ashryver Galanthynius," she answered. "How old are you?"

She considered lying before admitting, "About fifteen I think. I never really kept track. How old are you?"

She leaned back in the tub, letting her head rest on the rim. "Nineteen."

"You're the rightful queen of Terrasen?"

"And you're the princess."

More silence.

Taeryn hadn't felt herself drifting to sleep when her sister's voice sent her eyes flying open. "They call me Elentiya around here, but that's a name a friend gave me. My parents… Our parents named me Aelin. You can call me that if you want."

Her teeth were starting to shake a little as she spoke and Taeryn stood, removing her cloak. "Here, you can dry off with this and use it to walk back to your rooms if you like. I think the Prince ruined your clothes…" she mumbled. "I can bring you new ones in the morning or send you with some of mine now. I sleep in another room here-"

"No need," she said, but took the cloak from her outstretched hand. She rose without shame, not even trying to hide her body, but Taeryn looked away. Something about the nakedness of their conversation had removed the clinical part of her brain that didn't register the human anatomy through her life as a healer. "Thank you," she said as she stepped out of the tub wrapping herself in the robe. It seemed to fit her differently. She was taller and more womanly, Taeryn noticed. She nodded in response.

Aelin walked with a lethal grace Taeryn couldn't fathom as she made her way to the door like a killer queen. "I'll see you around," she tossed over her shoulder before she pushed through the lockless wooden door and left.

Taeryn had pretended not to notice when Aelin and Prince Rowan of Maeve's bloodsworn had started sharing sleeping quarters. It was none of her business. Just because they'd all but confirmed they were sisters didn't mean that they would suddenly become secret sharers or start braiding each other's hair like the twins she'd known back at the Commune had every night. And even if it seemed a little risque for Taeryn, Aelin was obviously nothing like Taeryn. And she was a grown woman - Aelin could do whatever she pleased. Not only was she a grown woman - but a queen. Heir of Terrasen.

Taeryn shook her head releasing the thoughts despite knowing it was hopeless. How do you just stop thinking about finding your only family when you've spent your entire life without one?

It had been weeks since their talk and they hadn't spoken since, though anytime Taeryn noticed a new injury on Aelin when she went to get breakfast from the kitchens every morning, she would heal it wordlessly. Perhaps it was offensive to Aelin as a warrior, but Taeryn couldn't muster a care. She needed to feel some sort of connection and when she could never find the words to approach her big sister, she would heal her instead. The least she could offer was what she did best, magic.

The Prince hadn't spoken to her either, though she noticed he watched her sometimes. She wasn't sure whether it was because of her new connection to Aelin or because of the magic she'd unveiled to him. It wasn't smart to have shown him any of her magic that day. He was sworn to Maeve. One question and he would spill every ounce of what he saw to the evil faerie queen. She wasn't sure if it mattered how close Aelin and the Prince where, he couldn't be trusted.

As if he could sense her thoughts, the Prince pushed straight through the door to her healer's quarters where she was idly mending a soldier's wound from a spar with one of his friends. The guard straightened underneath her touch as the silver haired male entered. She was wrapping the wound the old fashioned way, refusing to expend as much of her power in Mistward ever again.

"Just because my door does not lock does not mean you don't need to knock, Prince," she snapped, startling herself.

He seemed to snicker. _Snicker._ Taeryn glared at him.

"Finish up, healer. You're training with us today."

Like hell she was.

But she wasn't about to argue with the immortal warrior, not in front of witnesses at least. She secured the bandage and sent the male on his way. He nodded to the Prince before nearly sprinting from his presence.

"I'm not training with you," she said, turning away from him to put away her supplies inside the small desk where she sat.

"Yes you are," he commanded.

But this was not negotiable. Training meant showing someone else her power and that was something she would never do. Never again.

"You can't make me, you know."

"I knew you were young but surely you're not that childish," he countered and she spun on him, nostrils flaring.

"My magic is petty compared to yours and Aelin's. Nothing would come of me training with you," she fought. Her strength faltered when he stepped towards her, moving deeper into the wooden room.

He didn't hesitate. "We both know what a lie that is. You filled both of those tubs with water out of thin air. You healed me without touching me. Not only did you heal Aelin's burning blood, but you replenished her magic. She needed virtually no recovery time. Your magic is not petty: It is vital."

Taeryn was shaking now, whether with rage or fear she didn't know, but she was not going to show the bloodsworn of Maeve another inch of her magic.

"I need you to work with Aelin," he said quietly.

Her brow tensed.

"She is going to need to be protected…" he started, choking out the soft words. "She's going to need a court. She's going to need powerful allies. She's going to need you."

Taeryn's breaths grew heavy, her jaw ached at the tension.

After a quick breath, any softness in his voice disappeared. "I'm not going to say it again. You're training with us. Now come on, I'm tired of waiting," he barked before swiftly turning and stalking out the door and straight out into the trees.

In another form she would have snarled after him, but instead she let herself feed on the anger he gave her as she stood and followed in his wake.


End file.
